Love Letters
by VanillaFudges
Summary: A newly freed Tatooine slave finds letters in a box from a certain handmaiden to a Ben whilst cleaning... letters that speak of so much more than she has ever seen. [SabeObiwan.]


_Disclaimer_: Apart from the narrator, Mr News Man and Anton (the poor dear), the peoples who are in this story, do nicht belong to me. They are the rightful properties of a Mr George Lucas.

Story written for obisgirl's fanfiction contest on sobifan at livejournal. It isn't my best, and I struggled with the theme, but I gave it a shot anyway. Warning, it isn't all fluffy kittens and puppies, so bring a hanky, and remember that Sobiwan rocks!

_Love Letters _

Love letters.

That's what they are of course, these letters from a Sabé to a Ben. They cannot be anything but. I am just a simple Tatooine girl, of course, so what do I know about love and hope and light and the very joy that these words contain?

And yet…

In any case, I am glad I decided to buy this hovel whilst it was still going cheap- it may be a little too close to the Sand People for my liking, but it's the best I can afford.

It's a dusty, long deserted home and (being one that cannot abide dirt and uncleaniness) I set about making the place somewhere to be proud of. I had been a slave renowned for my cleaning abilities (and for my uncanny knack of finding things out), so really it should have come to no surprise when I found the simple wooden box hidden 'neath the loose slab under the mat.

It is a simple box, plain coloured and drab but still in pristine condition- even if the letters inside are not. The letters themselves are yellowed with age, worn and creased but handled with the greatest care and affection- almost as if they were a person themselves. They are old, these words of devotion, but even now as I hold one in my hand, I can smell some foreign flower from eons past.

_Ben,_

(it begins,)

_It has been a while, has it not? I don't think I have seen you since… well, since you and Anakin left Naboo. Goodness, but how I stared when Anakin came in, he has grown so tall and handsome! Ani was telling me all about the adventures that you both get yourselves into, though he swears that most of them are not his fault. Since being released from my position from Padmé, I haven't had as much contact with her as I would like- it's strange not following her around. Did you know, only two days ago I actually began making cups of Nabooian herbal tea before realising that I only needed to make one? It does feel odd to see others wait upon me for a change, I must admit! And surely I was never as silent as they are (do not laugh, Ben), I did not notice Keriee walk behind me until she reminded me that I was needed at the conference hall!_

It goes on like this for some pages, until there seems to be a change of ink, time… pace. Almost as if the woman did not wish to write what she did next, and could not bring herself to until a while had passed.

_Ben… there is something I wish to tell you, though it breaks my heart to do so._

_I'm getting married._

_You are a Jedi, Ben, and I am but a simple handmaiden who cannot offer you anything, who has seen too much death and pain. I…Ben, I don't think I could go through any of it again. And I would only ever hinder you, Ben. I know of the rules you follow, and I would only ever cloud your mind. What if I were to become the reason for your death?  
You may think I am cowardly and a fool (believe me, I think so too) but Anton is a good man, a safe man. I… You must think of the Code that you so strongly serve, of the Force that guides you. _

_I'm so sorry, Ben. Forgive me.  
_

_Sabé_

This letter is one that is crumpled with anger, and smeared with sorrow- it practically screams the pain and loss that this Ben must have gone through.

Strange, (it suddenly occurs to me) how she chose to write in such old fashioned ways instead of using a holochip like the rest of the rich people- for her to have had such a seemingly lavish wedding, she must have been wealthy.

Another, this one lovingly handled also. It is short, but full of warmth. The letters themselves seem to have been _created_ by love, so strongly do they speak out to me.

_Ben,_

_I have not heard from you since my last letter, and I am so sorry. I know that you must want to rip this letter to pieces but please, I beg you hear me out. _

_Have you ever had a nightmare? One where you are trapped, in some dark forbidding place that chills your very bones, and you cannot get out, you cannot move and you feel that no one can hear your cries for help? But then… but then you feel warmth around you as someone hold you tight in their embrace, and you know that you are safe.  
_

_Ben, you are my warmth. I am so sorry I did not realise this sooner, but standing there, Anton waiting for my 'Yes', I realised that I would be living a lie if I married him. It would be cruel to him to have a wife who would always love another. And as selfish as it is, it would be cruel to me. And to you._

_I love you, Ben, and I always will. I ran down the steps of the wedding ceremony and with each step, I could finally see what I had been trying to forget- my love for you. Please don't hate me Ben._

_Turn around._

My 'romantic head', as my father used to call it, begins to whirr away with images of a beautiful young lady who travels from very far away (perhaps still wearing her wedding dress, drawing the amused attention of others around her in this dusty place) and bids a bemused local to take the letter to a handsome man who sits in a bar, nursing a drink in distress. He reads it, with shaking hands and turns slowly, as if he thinks that should he move too quickly, he will awaken to find it has all been a cruel dream.

The heart-broken look upon his face would melt away as he realises that she is not a dream, but real and truly, truly there. He would slowly stand before upsetting the drink and run forwards to grasp her tightly in his arms. The lady Sabé would laugh delightedly as her worries and fears of a cold refusal, or harsh accusations melt away, and they would kiss ardently to the applause of the many in the bar…

Suddenly, I can see why Sabé decided to use ink and pen. It seems so… intimate. It's a far cry from the use of a chip- these do not feel like correspondences of lovers, but a pouring of her soul. I feel guilty for reading these precious insights into another life but I feel compelled to carry on, like someone else is bidding me to do this.

Setting the letter aside, my hand reached out for the next, before finding the very last in the neat pile of letters. A delicate silver necklace slithers out from between the two pages and falls on the floor, forgotten for the moment.

_My dearest Ben,_

_I am sorry that I have been away this month, but as you know, the riots here have been getting worse each day. It is all I can do to negotiate between the people (and believe me, I use this in the most loosest term). I am not complaining of course, it's not that I don't appreciate the position, and I know that they only called for me because they didn't know where else to turn to (and seeing as I did so well several years before, it is not so very hard to see why they picked me) but it does seem a hard and weary life when all you have to look forward to in the day is a flock of people coming into your office only to complain about this and that and whys and whats. Mainly about broken windows, or something as trivial as that.  
_

_I'm sorry, I've read this over and it's quite full of moaning and complaining even when I promised there wouldn't be! I shall talk about more pleasant things._

_Life here isn't all that bad once you get used to it, it's almost like Coruscant really. It's full of life and colours, vibrant and bright when it is peaceful, and wonderful at night. There is a park nearby, where I sit on the bench nearest to the fountain, and when I sit there, I think of you. I look at the stars and think of how we met, and how we first admitted to one another our true feelings. Of how you saved my from a life without love. Sometimes, I will pick out in the skies where I know you are and-  
_

_Oh darn it._

_I'm afraid that this letter has to be rather much shorter than I would like it… something strange is going on outside and it doesn't look all too friendly. But I'll be home before soon, my love, and when I do…_

_When I do, there is something I want to tell you._

_All my love, now and forever,_

_Your Sabé._

The second page, not a letter at all, but a holochip. Thank goodness that my last mistress, a kind and wealthy woman had decided to give me a holo projector for my servitude- true, it's small, unclear and most likely second or third hand but it was decent of her all the same.

I slip the disk in, and the projector whirrs into life.

A news piece, jerky and flickering, shows glimpses of panicked people running to and fro. Suddenly, the scene switches to a man explaining the day's news.

"… and this morning, mere minutes before the riot you see going on happened, Councillor Sabé Maberrie was shot by a rogue rioter who managed to slip by the Meeting Hall's security." An image of the Councillor appears, a stunning woman with dark eyes who must not have been over thirty or forty at the most, so young she looked. "Rumours of her having been with child is still unconfir-"

It cuts off abruptly.

I take the chip out, and slip it back into the box, along with the letter and am about to put it away, when I see the necklace on the ground. I pick it up, and admire the beautiful craftsmanship.

The pendant swirls are beautiful, soothing colours of green and blue that melt into one another as if they had been caressed by the kiss of an angel. The silver that twines around it still sparkles after so long, and the light from the window seems to stretch out to it, welcoming an long-lost friend back.

As gently as I can, I place the necklace back in the box, but no longer do I want to put the box away. Turning from it, I place the slab back in it's original place, and tidy up the rest of the hut, until there is nothing more I can do.

Where do I place them, these innermost thoughts of someone? It feels wrong to put it where I found them, like burying someone who is still alive, but yet I cannot just leave it out here… I shake my head a little. For now, it will have to do to be placed on the shelves above the table. Placing a vase of desert flowers beside it, I turn to the window.

It is dark now, and the humid air begins to turn cooler, the light softer. My heart hurts for this Ben- did he live the rest of his life in agony? How awful it must have been for him! To have such a strong love, such a wonderful, passionate person and then to have her cruelly snatched away! I wrap my arms around myself, and shiver a little.

It is strange. I feel as if today, I have been let in on something greater than anything I have ever seen before, or ever will do, as if they deemed me worthy enough to share a little of a beautiful love story, one that will never be seen again.

"I hope you found each other in the end." I whisper softly into the open air. My voice travels across the sand, and into the skies carried by the gentle wind that are blowing. The stars seem to twinkle in agreement… or in a response.

Overhead, just out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of a brightly burning star that flies across the deep blue sky, leaving a trail behind it that glows weakly before fading away.

_fin_


End file.
